


Queeriosity

by MCUsic_to_my_ears



Series: Avengers Pride Month 2019 [7]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Deadpool (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Awesome Shuri (Marvel), Awesome Wanda Maximoff, BAMF Michelle Jones, BAMF Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Kate Bishop Is a Good Bro, M/M, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Poetry, Precious Peter Parker, Pride, Slam Poetry, Trans Peter Parker, Twitter, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 13:39:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCUsic_to_my_ears/pseuds/MCUsic_to_my_ears
Summary: Peter performs a poem on his experiences as a transman. He is surprised by the results.





	Queeriosity

Peter picked at the hem of his ‘Black Lives Matter’ shirt. 

“Face up, Peter,” Shuri sighed, adjusting her matching crop top. “I know it’s uncomfortable, but it’s required. Would you rather I did it or some stranger?”

“You,” Peter admitted sourly, flinching away from her makeup brush. A backstage manager came over to the pair. After confirming Peter was ready, makeup kit snapping shut, he was ushered away to the holding pen. Inside, a boy and a non-binary person (their shirts looked like baseball jerseys, with a number and, in the place of their name, their pronouns) whispered their prepared material under their breath. He craned his neck to see the person performing. Frizzy hair, long legs, beautiful. They described the fluid mosaic of the cell membrane as the gender binary, arguing for the individual's right to make their own labels. There was a swell of applause, ear-shattering cheers as the first performer exited the stage and the next pair entered. Another societal charge, two perspectives. Outrage. Peter's heart stuttered, anxiety tripping over self-doubt. He turned to see if her could ask to stage manager how late was too late to change your set, when the duo before him finished in a chorus of screams. 

The manager cued him on as the stage floor grew in size. Each step forward was half the previous distance crossed. The excitement fizzled out and then it was silent as he approached the microphone. 

He checked the peeling spike tape X under his feet, head ducked. One breath. Two. He looked up. He would hear how he spoke later, on a video clip. The passion, the clarity. In the moment though, it was just him and his words. No crowd, no judgement. 

He began. 

 

_ A boy sobs “wolf”.  _

_ As his doctor checks the perceived gender on his birth certificate. _

_ Swaddling him in a sheepskin blanket, _

_ Begging him to sleep.  _

_ ‘My little lamb,’ his mother whispers. ‘I love you.’ _

_ Tiny fingers clenched into fists under the gauze of a sheep. _

_ He sleeps, growl building in the back of his throat.  _

 

_ A boy whines “wolf” _

_ Spitting out grazed grass, _

_ Sawdust on his tongue. _

_ He races across grassy fields, tripping over his misshapen limbs, _

_ Ripping the fleece skirt away from his wailing body.  _

_ At night, he counts each sheep he was mistaken as that day, _

_ Branding every confusion into his wool  _

_ Until he is too ugly to be called “sheep” _

_ To be soft.  _

_ To be delicate. _

 

_ Instead, he roars ‘wolf’ _

_ Shaving his charred wool off,  _

_ Each inch revealing his prickling charcoal fur, _

_ Every strand is clenching its fist until it is recognized. _

_ As wolf.  _

_ As strong. _

_ As survivor.  _

 

_ A boy cries ‘wolf,’  _

_ Three times he is ignored.  _

_ Even with a wolf’s coat sewn into his shoulders, _

_ He is chased out of the pack, _

_ Called ‘sheep’ to his snout. _

_ A boy cries ‘wolf,’ _

_ Three times, he is ignored _

_ Until a boy bleeds ‘wolf’ _

_ Ripping out the offensive sheep anatomy deep in his body.  _

_ Replacing the anomalies with hand woven predator insides.  _

_ The stitches sprout whiskers, _

_ Claws tear out of his fist, _

_ Now risen into the air, _

_ He proclaims ‘wolf’ _

_ And he is believed.  _

 

The last word bellowed and suddenly Peter is back on Earth, heart thundering along with the enthusiastic audience. He has mind enough to exit the stage as he shakes off the possessed feeling. He barely heard the announcer informing the crowd that the next section would begin in the morning, nine AM sharp and to have a good night. Instead, he was immediately swarmed by his teammates, Ned leading the charge. They all gushed about the power of his voice, the reception of the crowd. They circled him, jumping and screaming. Once they calmed down slightly, still speaking a hundred miles an hour, held up a container of makeup wipes, before pressing a quick kiss on his lips. Peter grinned at his boyfriend, wiping the offending particles off his face as quickly as possible. They followed the rest of the team out to the rest of the backstage area and into the crowded convention floor, which was quickly filling with other poets. As they left, poets from competing teams reaching out to Peter, informing him about the impact as his piece. He thanked them all, approaching other poets he particularly connected with. His teammates did the same. The energy of a slam event was paralleled by none. 

Out on the street, the other college students dispersed, while the MIT team diverted toward a bar a block away from their hotel. They were directed to a single booth in the corner of the restaurant, still laughing and gushing about their competitors. After placing their drink orders, Peter and Ned escaped to the bathrooms. 

Kate shouted, “Don’t have too much fun!” Ned flipped her off, laughing. 

After wiping his face in the cold sink water, Peter turned to Ned. “What?” he asked, noting his boyfriend’s slack look. 

Ned blinked, as if returning to Earth again. He smiled shyly. “You were really inspired tonight,” he murmured. 

“So were you,” Peter reminded. Ned had spoken earlier in the morning, reciting a poem about the intersection of Asian culture and homosexuality, rallying for acceptance of ‘double diversity’. It was one of Ned’s best poems, although Peter’s favorite by far was his humourous interweaving of  _ Star Wars _ and coming out. 

They continued to argue-compliment-a term MJ had coined after listening to them try and decide who had the better fashion sense for nearly three hours-back to their table. Their jovial mood was quickly overridden by their silent group of friends when they arrived. 

Sliding in beside Wanda, Peter looked around to see what had happened while they were gone. “Guys?” he asked. 

Finally, Wade rushed.  _ “You-and-Michelle-were-selected-for-the-Shootout.” _

“For-  _ what?” _

Kate nodded vigorously. “Out of, like, five hundred poets. Like, shit!”

Peter looked to MJ, who raised an eyebrow. “Looks like we’ll be cutting drinks short tonight,” she announced, pulling out her notebook. Wade pouted, but seeing as only he and Kate were over 21, the rest of the team wasn’t too upset as they paid their bills. The walk back to the hotel was filled with conjecture as to what the prompt would be. Shootout consisted of twelves poets, two from each category who were selected by a panel of five established poets, performing a brand new poem written to the prompt released at midnight after the final open mic event. It was incredibly rare for two students from the same school to be chosen, especially since MIT’s slam team was so new. It had been founded the year before by Michelle and Kate, only growing to fifteen members by the next year. Only Peter, Shuri, MJ, Ned, Wade, Wanda and Kate had flown out to Las Angeles for Queeriosity though, as the rest of the team consisted of loveable, exclusing Flash, cis-hets. Competing at Brave New Voices had been an honor for their team, but being invited to Queeriosity was something else. 

Stepping into the elevator, Peter looked around at his friends, his boyfriend. The first people to accept him. He knew, whatever the prompt, what he needed to write about. 

When the word ‘anchor’ blazed through his Twitter feed an hour later, him and MJ on opposite sides of the hotel room, he couldn’t have been more pleased.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a transperson, but a transperson did read the poem and say it was good/accurate. Obviously, I can't speak to everyone's experience, but at the very least I spoke to his! 
> 
> Queeriosity is a real event run by Youth Speaks. I have never been, so I have no idea what it's really like (their FAQ page leaves some major information to be desired). I am almost positive that there is not a shootout, since I stole that idea from dance competitions and impromptu forensic's speeches, but I thought it was a cool idea! 
> 
> Finally, Happy Pride!!!


End file.
